


Beneath The Swings

by XxTwistedEverAfterxX



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 13:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2694728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxTwistedEverAfterxX/pseuds/XxTwistedEverAfterxX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gilbert finds it curious when he discovers a little boy all by himself at a snowy park at night, and takes it upon himself to confront this strange child. Sometimes, finding your place in the world is simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beneath The Swings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maplevogel](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=maplevogel).



> So for this fic, I saw this adorable picture here by maplevogel, and I got a little dumb idea on maybe how these two met for the first time. Cute PruCan kids learning that they belong somewhere and it's maybe sort of together under a lamp post or in a snowed in park. I just wrote something quickly, but it was too cute a picture to pass up!

How they met could have been as ordinary as any other child meeting together.

There was a park, right between their houses.

There was a large lamppost the main street shared with the intersection that lead each different routes—one North and one South.

There was snow on the day they met, fluttering softly and beginning to pile on the play equipment, catching on the swings, the slide, the jungle gym, and the swinging animal shaped thing on a spring that a name could never be decided upon.

A kind and nice neighbourhood, nothing rich and fancy, but nothing lower class, even if the people in the surrounding houses could be of questionable backgrounds.

It was as ordinary in setting as any other meetings between children, but the time of day was wrong, and the children themselves were tacked with abnormalities that shunned them as  _outcasts_.

It was Gilbert who found the other boy first, sitting alone on the swing, little gloved mittens covering small hands that held to the metal chains of the swing, toes unable to touch the ground but nonetheless still trying. His head was bowed; blond curls tucked into a red hat with a fluffy white pompom on the top, red striped scarf thick and wrapped around his neck and the bottom half of his pale face, red coat bundling him up, but a fine white powder had dusted him over like icing sugar on a strawberry cake.

Alone, in the darkness, simply trying to swing back and forward with feet that couldn't reach.

 _Odd_ , and though Gilbert thought that, staring at the child who couldn't be much younger than his little seven year old self, he stared with ruby eyes tinted with flecks of pink, complexion as white as the snow to the point where if he lay down bare and closed his eyes he would blend.

 _Odd_ , and Gilbert knew that he fit under that label as well with grandpa coloured hair whilst he was still a child, knew that he had no right to think someone else was strange.

So he approached the solitary boy, lights around the park dim as snow caught the streaks of gold and darkened them as they continued to pile above the lamp posts. Snow crunched beneath Gilbert's feet, wading through snow that was getting up past his knees, lifting his legs up high and stomping down to get through. There were no fresh tracks in the snow, which made him wonder just how long the little boy had been out there for.

 _Odd_ , he thought, and continued to stare with odd eyes at the odd boy; both their cheeks pink from the cold but the stranger boy's glowed a darker hue of red. He'd been there for a while.

It was when the snow crunch grew louder that the blond looked up, eyes tired and curious and sad and so very  _not normal_.

Violet.

The little German halted in his steps before the swing, the two exchanging long stares, eye to eye, staring with one abnormal colour to another, inspecting, finding something so new and similar yet so different that their gazes couldn't break once they locked.

"Y'know, it's cold out here," Gilbert spoke up after a while, tilting his head back in a youthful arrogance, voice louder to make up for the deep Prussian blue coloured earmuffs he wore to keep at least those extremities warm, snow disguised amongst his hair.

A pause. A slow blink that had fair blond lashes glimmering with white snowflakes fluttering against ruby cheeks. An exhale that blew hot smoky air into the darkness. A slow jerky nod, only once, only solitary.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark blue coat, Gilbert frowned a little, lips pursing to the side.

"Are you alone?" he prompted from the silent boy.

Another pause. Another blink that dusted snowflakes and had them melting against a chilled face. Another slow exhale that mystified before the thick scarf. Another slow nod.

Looking around, Gilbert tried to find a source of origin, a way the boy had come from, or maybe even a guardian or parent somewhere nearby. Nothing. Just him, the odd boy, the flickering lights and the snow.

"Will you push me, please?"

Gilbert looked back, seeing the sleepy and sad eyes looking up at him, and if he hadn't been listening for noise, he would have missed the soft and accented voice.

 _Odd_.

Both had accents, thick with their English speaking, and both had strange coloured eyes that they'd never seen before on anyone but in a mirror reflection. They were both odd, and they drew comfort from that, trusted so much faster even though they were both alone in the middle of a park at an hour reserved only for the owls.

"I can't reach," the boy continued, swinging his legs a little, only managing to knock over some little hills of snow, violet eyes watching as his boots came away with flecks of white.

Nodding, Gilbert trekked forward, wading through the snow to stand behind the blond, grasping to the back of the swing seat.

"How high do you wanna go?" he asked.

The little blond thought for a moment, puffs of air looking like dragon smoke and Gilbert pictured it as such, though his eyes kept focused on violet glimmers so strange he found himself drawn and delighted.

"I don't mind how high. Thank you for playing with me."

His name was Matthew, four years younger than him at the age of three and a half, Gilbert discovered, and he lived only a block away, or so. He was lost, having forgotten the way home, but not wanting to return home either. His parents were in a tough spot, fighting too much, talking about separating and taking him from another boy Matthew called a clone—he was one of a set of twin boys. Neither parent wanted both due to finances, but each had their favourite, yet neither wanted to split up the two boys which were joined at the hips. Gilbert had asked where the twin was, or his parents for that matter, surprised when Matthew's answer was "they promised they'd come back."

They had promised before the sun had set and when it was still towards the middle of the sky.

They held hands after Matthew looked too wary to hold to the swing any longer, Gilbert helping to push through the thick snow that came up to the little French-Canadian's hips, having decided to take him home to get warm before he asked of his mother to call for help. Even if his new baby brother with normal blond hair and normal blue eyes was now the clear favourite, in Gilbert's eyes at least, he knew his mother wouldn't reject him for bringing home a new friend to help.

They came to the intersection, hands held with Matthew pressed up to Gilbert's body for warmth, quirked tip nose pressed into the dark blue coat and block scarf much too long and wrapped wrong around the pale neck.

"Oh… I know this cross," Matthew spoke up, lifting a little gloved hand, pointing awkwardly, "That's my house over there. I remembered."

"You sure?" Gilbert asked, getting back a little pitched sound of confirmation, continuing to step forward along the road cleared of snow, "I'll take you home, okay?"

"Thank you for walking home with me and playing with me," Matthew murmured, his other hand lifting to rub at a sleepy eye, "I don't know how to get home from the park, just the lamp light."

"If you want," the albino began, stepping over a piled clump of snow and ice to get onto the footpath, helping the smaller odd boy up as well, "I can meet you at the lamp post tomorrow and take you to the park. Maybe I can help you remember your way home?"

"Will you push me on the swing again tomorrow, Gil?"

"Yeah, I can. Tomorrow too."

"What about tomorrow's tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow's tomorrow too."

It was normal, like any children's meeting and befriending. It was just an ordinary neighbourhood, with nothing special and nothing out of the ordinary. They were simply little children who would meet under a plain lamp post in the middle of an intersection to go play together and talk about everything and anything odd and curious.

Matthew found out Gilbert was an albino.

Gilbert found out Matthew had damaged eyes from a birth defect and a popped vein in the iris.

They were little oddities simply born the way they were, and in a normal neighbourhood full of normal little children the perfect picture in a plain, simple and normal society, and they found their first taste of normality in one another.

" _Hey… Gilbert… Let's run away together."_


End file.
